


Under Your Wings, I Will Find Refuge

by idgit_with_a_fidget



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drabble, M/M, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-01
Updated: 2013-02-01
Packaged: 2017-11-27 20:06:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/665934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idgit_with_a_fidget/pseuds/idgit_with_a_fidget
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas' wings are a mystery.</p><p>Title an allusion of Pslam 91:4 'He will cover you with his pinions, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness is a shield and buckler.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under Your Wings, I Will Find Refuge

The sweat and heat from Cas’ skin spread across Dean’s chest and stomach as thin film, the heavy breathing and hammering of the vessel’s heart filling his ears and causing his head to reel and pound. His limbs were sluggish now, and tangled, intertwined with both the damp sheets and Cas’ legs and waist. His mind still ebbed with the familiar elation, better every time. He felt the vessel’s muscles roll and relax beneath and beside him, flexing and then slackening. 

And the wings. He was sure they were wings. Strong but light, delicate, securing them in their lazy embrace. Invisible to the eye, but still there. He could feel them, the overlap of dense material and sturdy grafting. Not feathers; something different. Experimentally he traced the seemingly empty space, fingers trailing along a high arch of thicker, more solidified air. He splayed his hand like a star and the sleeping body wrapped around him spasmed and grunted; partly disgruntled from half-sleep, partly comforted and pleased. He moved his hand more, further and further out until he had fully extended his arm right across his collar, and yet he could still feel that there was more round near his back. Where did they end? Did they ever?

The texture and sensations were foreign, daunting, too, as he explored the depth and the dimensions of the hidden wings. He stroked absently, immersed, amazed, fascinated. His pulse jackhammered and raced, suddenly scared and anxious. He knew that his sense were not supposed to be strong enough to experience this. Had Cas changed that? Sometimes, if he listened close enough, and moved his index finger in the right direction, he could hear the subtle crumpling and shifting of ruffled pillows, or a bluster of a gale through drooping tree boughs; the distinct sound of angels teleporting from place to place, just above the thudding of his blood and the tremors of his breath; a sound so familiar, but now so serene and intimate, he’d never hear it in the same way again. 

Suddenly, something spooked him, a sweeping sense of vertigo, and his stomach leapt and he snatched his hands back, snagging. The angel stirred, brow knitted and furrowed in mild irritation. 

“Ow,” he muttered half-heartedly, squirming. His voice had dropped at least two octaves; a sound that made Dean’s skin hungry and turn to goosebumps. 

Cas raised himself up onto one elbow, ungluing himself from Dean’s side. A silence fell upon them like snow falls upon the ground. The usual ice in his gaze had melted to into an idle scrutinising, as though he was still trying to figure the man out, as if there was still one remaining puzzle piece left to be put in its place. The stare made Dean feel exposed and vulnerable, and yet calmed and soothed. It was the sort of stare that was inquisitive, but promised peace. He chewed his lip and made his move to place a kiss on Cas’ bare neck, long and languid. He closed his eyes and leaned, but fell into nothing but sheets.

In a whirl of invisible wings, Cas had vanished.


End file.
